Summer Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

stroking his damp hair. She tore open his buttoned
shirt, revealing his massive barrel chest coated in fine down. She
slid the flat of her palms over his pecs while his seed continued
to fill her. When Brie could feel no more, Brad’s beefy frame
collapsed on top of her. His weight was crushing. Brie twisted out
from underneath him and rolling to the other side of the bed. Brad
was asleep on his stomach. She reached over and stroked his hair,
studying him. She was thrilled that she had drained him of his
juices, but she hadn’t orgasmed and wanted to wake him and go
again. But he looked so sweet like this, his hair covering his
face, this magnificent object of desire lying here next to her. She
could feel his cum draining out of her pussy, onto her thighs and
dripping onto the sheets. He looked so vulnerable that she felt
like she could put him into a little box and carry him around,
available to her whenever she wanted. He could never leave.
    Fifteen minutes later Brad awoke. “I'm
sorry,” he said, groggily. “I haven't come that hard that since I
was teenager.”
    “Don't be sorry— don't be sorry for
anything,” Brie whispered. “But we have to wash these sheets.”
    “Right,” said Brad.
    And we got to cover those windows.”
    “Using what?” said Brad weakly.
    “Do you have any wood panels in the garage
left over from when the house was built?” Brie said, stroking his
hair and whispering.
    “I don't know. We can check.”
    “Do you have like a chop saw or something?”
Brie said patiently, enjoying being in the driver's seat.
    “What the hell is that?” said Brad, lifting
his head off the bed and looking up at her.
    “A saw for cutting small pieces,” she
smiled.
    “We have something in the basement that I
borrowed from Tony but I don't know what it is.”
    “Then lets get to work,” Brie said, her
take-charge demeanor couched in the warm tones of a lover.
    “I want to fuck again,” said Brad.
    “After we do our chores we can fuck
again.”
    Brad sat up on the bed, his large cock
semi-erect—his balls hanging down like a steer. Then again,
maybe I can't wait either... But before Brie could reach for
him, Brad had his shorts on.
    “Oh crap!” she said suddenly, “My clothes are
in the pool!”
    “But you are right here,” said Brad. “You can
always get new clothes.”
    “And my phone! I bet my parents were trying
to call me! Give me your phone.”
    Brie dialed. “Hi Mom.... yes, I'm okay! I'm
over here at the Evans waiting out the storm... nope, don't worry,
I won't leave until it’s over... Love you!” Brie handed the phone
back to Brad.
    “Tamera has some shorts and tops in that
large dresser,” he said. “I think you guys are about the same
size.”
    “I'm not going to wear your wife's clothes!”
said Brie, her dulcet tone now gone.
    “Well, why not?” Brad said putting on his
shirt.
    “Because I'm sleeping with her husband!” said
Brie.
    “You feel bad about that?”
    “A little! And I'm not going to twist the
knife by wearing her clothes too.”
    “I'm glad you have a moral center but don't
worry, she's not going to care. In fact, I'll tell her.”
    “You're going to tell her?” said Brie.
“How?”
    “I'll just tell her that you and I were
having sex and your clothes got blown away by the storm.”
    “No you're not.”
    “Sure, I am,” said Brad. “We don't keep
anything from each other.”
    “You're going to tell her about us?” said
Brie, sitting lying on the bed.
    “If you must know, she's the one who pointed
you out to me,” said Brad, “She saw you mowing the Fugleson's yard
a few weeks back and mentioned how lovely you were and what a nice
companion you might be for me when she was out of town.”
    “Your wife is pimping for you?!”
    “Well, we also needed a new lawn service— so
it worked out nicely.”
    “That is so fucked up,” said Brie, seeing
that she was still dripping onto the bedspread. She leapt to her
feet to grab a tissue from